Who Will Love Me As I Am?
by chrestomanci
Summary: A Sevvie/Mione fic. Was supposed to be the first of a series, but I lost my plot bunny. *FINISHED*


Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters/ideas belong to the wondrous J.K. Rowling. "Who Will Love Me As I Am?" is from the musical "Side Show." I don't own either of them.

A/N: I have become increasingly intrigued by the Severus Snape/Hermione Granger pairing. Their lives seem so...similar, while at the same time they're polar opposites. Both have had a difficult time being accepted – they just handled it differently. I wrote this songfic with the idea that neither one of them has come to terms with the fact that what they yearn for is staring them in the face. They may seem pessimistic at times, but they're just unsure of themselves. Enjoy!

Hermione Granger sat in Potions class, waiting to be dismissed. As she prayed for her release, her mind began to wander. She slipped into the river of thoughts that constantly ran through the recesses of her consciousness.

__

Like a fish plucked from the ocean

Tossed into a foreign stream...

"Miss Granger!" Snape's voice cut through her reverie. "Five points from Gryffindor for wasting my time. Now leave, before I make it twenty!" Recovering from her shock, Hermione grabbed her books and left the dungeon before Snape could follow through on his threat.

*~*~*

Severus Snape watched the girl for several moments after her classmates had left, finally realizing that she was daydreaming.

"Miss Granger!" he barked. She seemed startled at his abruptness and snapped back into reality. "Five points from Gryffindor for wasting my time. Now leave, before I make it twenty!" She picked up her things and scurried from her seat, the embarrassment clearly visible on her face. As her robes trailed behind her and disappeared into the corridor, Severus let out a sigh. Why did these infernal students bother him so? The only thing he had ever wanted in life was to be accepted – that was why he had become a Death Eater, and look what had happened with that.

__

Always knew that I was different;

Often fled into a dream...

"More of a nightmare, if you ask me," he muttered. Then he turned and headed to his office. At least he had lunch to look forward to.

*~*~*

After Care of Magical Creatures class Hermione followed Ron and Harry to the Great Hall. She was shuffling her feet and everything the boys said to her seemed unimportant.

__

I ignored the raging currents,

Right against the tide I swam.

But I floated with the question:

'Who will love me as I am?'

"Hermione?" Ron looked at her like she'd gone and left them all together. "You alright?"

"I'm fine, Ron," she replied, managing a weak smile. "I'm not that hungry. I think I'll take a walk." With that, she turned and left.

"Something is definitely up with her," Harry said. Ron nodded his head in agreement. "I just wish I knew what it was."

"Well, _I'm_ hungry; let's eat." And Ron entered the Great Hall, ready to devour a hippogriff.

*~*~*

Severus was relieved that his class was over. Those first years made him so tense, spilling things and mixing up their ingredients. He'd taken away more points in a single class than he had in a whole week since he'd begun teaching, and that was saying something.

He leaned against his desk, massaging his temples with his fingers. These children made him feel like he was trapped – and he knew they talked about him.

__

Like an odd exotic creature

On display inside a zoo.

Hearing children asking questions

Makes me ask some questions, too.

Suddenly there was a knock on his office door. "Go away," he snarled.

"Professor Snape?" came a voice he knew all too well. She poked her head through the door.

"Miss Granger, I thought I told you to _go away_." He gave her an icy stare and was surprised when she didn't flinch.

"Yes, but I was wondering if you found my copy of _Hogwarts, A History._"

"No."

"Alright." She started to close the door. "Thank you," she added as an afterthought. Then she was gone.

*~*~*

All thoughts of her missing book had left her mind. She couldn't believe what had just happened. He had glared at her, but she wasn't frightened – no, instead she felt an electric thrill run through her body. And then she even said "thank you"! What was wrong with her today? Still...

__

Could we bend the laws of nature?

Could a lion love a lamb?

He was her teacher! She shouldn't be having these thoughts. Besides, he was a Slytherin and she was a Gryffindor; it would never work.

Reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady, she mumbled the password and entered the common room. She ignored Ron's and Harry's beckoning gestures and went straight to bed.

*~*~*

He stared at the door for some time. She hadn't seemed scared. He had never seen anyone react to him like that; she had even been polite. When she had said "thank you", he had felt something he couldn't quite understand. All it did was make him think more about himself. If someone like that – his total opposite – could treat him like that.... But she was a Gryffindor! Why was he getting all wrapped up with this? He knew he wasn't the most attractive man in the world [A/N: This is not my personal opinion!], but would he ever find anyone? He highly doubted it, so he turned to his desk to begin grading assignments.

__

Who could see beyond this surface?

Who will love me as I am?

*~*~*

She lay in bed, her thoughts turning to him again. She had often dreamed of someone who would love her unconditionally, someone who would never look down upon her for what she was – a Muggle-born witch who was sometimes too bossy for her own good and knew more than practically anyone in the school. Of course, if Snape even _remotely_ felt anything for her, she knew he'd never let it show. After all, she was only an "insufferable know-it-all." But a girl could dream, couldn't she?

__

Who will ever call to say 'I love you'?

Send me flowers or a telegram?

She closed her eyes and turned over.

Severus Snape wasn't that kind of man.

*~*~*

He sat by the fire; essays needing to be graded lay forgotten on the cold stone floor. Her prideful Gryffindor nature would never allow her to feel for him...would it? Or would it allow her to love him more freely? Did she even have any idea of how she had affected him? He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He decided to take a shower and go to bed.

__

Who could proudly stand beside me?

Who will love me as I am?

*~*~*

The dawn broke to find her wandering the grounds. Wearing nothing but her nightgown, she trailed her toes in the cool waters of the lake. She felt so disconnected from everything – all she knew was what her heart told her.

__

Like a clown whose tears cause laughter

Trapped inside the center ring...

She could never tell Harry, and she could _certainly_ never tell Ron. The reality of this was that he was old enough to be her father and he despised her best friend. Why did she have to feel this way?

The tears began to stream down her face and she collapsed into the water.

*~*~*

Something woke him that morning and, try as he might, he couldn't get back to sleep. Frustrated, he threw on a robe and stormed outside. Realization struck him when he saw the grey dawn and he cursed himself for giving in to whatever caused him to awake. He turned to re-enter the castle but stopped when he caught a glimpse of a figure in white. Instinctively he ducked behind a bush and waited for her to leave. Just looking at her made him feel like a teenager again; he wondered what someone would think if they walked out to find him like this. There was something about her.... How could she be so happy?

__

Even seeing smiling faces

I am lonely pondering...

He glanced to the lake to see if she had gone, only to notice a bundle of white on the shore. Breaking into a run, he made his way to her. He lifted her into his arms and carried her inside, worried that something was really wrong with her. Poppy wouldn't be awake at this hour; the only option was to take her to his dungeons.

He gently placed her on his bed and checked her pulse. Very weak – much too weak for her own good. At least she was breathing normally. He left the room but soon returned with a vial in one hand and a goblet in the other, slowly pouring the contents of one into the other. Sitting her up, he placed the now-filled goblet to her lips and tipped it. It went down easily enough and he felt her wrist again. Much better. He laid her down once more and pulled the covers over her, knowing she would be chilled when she eventually rose. He lit a fire in the hearth and quietly exited the room.

__

Who would want to join this madness?

*~*~*

The next thing she knew she was curled in a dark green comforter. She untangled herself and crawled out of the covers. Where was she? Her eyes darted quickly about the room and, judging by the draft, she suddenly knew where she was. She was in his chambers. His chambers. _His._

Who would change my monogram?

The decor was dark and the air was musky. She walked to a shelf, interested in what a man like him read. Running her fingers along the spines, she skimmed the titles. Dumas, Dickens, Tennyson...she knew them all.

But she didn't notice the door open behind her.

*~*~*

They stood there for a long time – her back to him, his eyes upon her.

__

Who will be part of my circus?

Who will love me as I am?
    
    *~*~*

She felt a shiver go through her body and she spun around. There he was, standing in the door, looking at her. Suddenly he pulled his gaze away; his eyes focused on the books she was still fingering. She became painfully aware of her thin cotton nightgown and grabbed the first thing her hands came across, wrapping it hurriedly around herself.

"Do you want to put that on?" he asked. The first words she had heard in hours rang in her ears.

"Huh?" she managed, wondering what he was talking about.

"That _is_ my robe, after all."

"Oh." He strode over to her and helped her pull his robe on. She giggled at the sheer magnitude of it. When his fingers gently brushed her arm, her breath caught in her throat and she looked longingly up at him.

__

Who will ever call to say 'I love you'?

Send me flowers or a telegram?

Maybe she had been wrong about him.

*~*~*

Did she even know that he was in the doorway? He watched her as she thoughtfully scanned his shelves, his heart beating erratically in his chest. Then she turned around and he realized what he was doing and broke the gaze. She snatched one of his robes off his chair – he could only assume she was embarrassed by her nightclothes, especially after she wrapped the robe around herself.

"Do you want to put that on?" His voice seemed too loud in the cold and silent room.

"Huh?"

"That _is_ my robe, after all."

"Oh." He walked toward her, never taking his eyes off her...did she have to do this to him? He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and helped her into his robe. She emitted a giggle, but he felt her body go rigid when he accidentally touched her arm.

__

Who could proudly stand beside me?

Who will love me as I am?

She looked up at him and he froze.

He didn't know what to do.

*~*~*

They didn't move. She reached out her hand to him after what seemed like an eternity; his hand went to hers instinctively. They stood there, neither of them daring to make a sound. Then, for the first time in their lives, they whispered those words aloud.

__

"Who could proudly stand beside me?

Who will love me as I am?"

And they kissed, knowing they'd never be alone again.


End file.
